


Il était une fois...

by Ms_Pimprenelle



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Gen, fairytales - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 16:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16201343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Pimprenelle/pseuds/Ms_Pimprenelle
Summary: A handful of unrelated short stories all taking place in a fairytale world, or one where the surnatural exists.





	1. Anonymity

**Author's Note:**

> Gathered in this thread are various one-shots I wrote for the "Playground" section on another site. They haven't been betaed and the first couple of stories are early ones, so there may be a number of Grammar Issues (don't hesitate to point them to me and I'll edit the chapters so that the later readers' eyes won't bleed too much).
> 
> The first story has Lydia as a Super-Heroine, just because.

Lydia Bennet was annoyed. Since she had ascertained, sometime during the spring, that the ——shire Militia officer George Wickham was a creature of the Darkness, she had endeavoured to bring his activities to an end. She was quite experienced in the matter, though she had only begun her career fortuitously, on her first evening out. Her carefully cultivated manners—silly and slightly improper—helped her to conceal her activities. Her mother considered that fifteen was old enough to be out, but Lydia disagreed. She felt too young to be married, and was happy that Fate had given her another goal in life. Who would believe that a flighty young lady was actually a ruthless monster killer ? Certainly not the monsters themselves. The trickiest part was to isolate them and kill them in a place where their remains wouldn't be noticed.  
  
Her last victim had also been blind to her real nature—that is, up to the point where she had stabbed him with a really pretty, and really sturdy, wooden stake.  
No, that part of the plan went without hitch. The problem was the threat to her reputation—and that of her sisters.  
  
She had left her friend Harriet a letter before going away with Mr Wickham. Under the latter's eyes, she had written something about an elopement. She had left it on her desk when she slipped out of her room to rejoin him but had thought to come back less that one hour later. Alas, there were too many witnesses at the place Mr Wickham met her, and she had no other choice but to board the chaise with him.

  
She briefly considered dealing with Wickham immediately and head directly to her relatives' doorstep, but the disappearance of the man would have raised some questions from the driver. She tried to have him find lodgings near her uncle's home, but she failed there too. She had some hope when the friend Wickham first went to see had not any room left, but the woman gave him the address of another boarding house, in a part of London she did not know at all, and there they went.  
  
George Wickham had been reduced to a pile of ashes and neatly swept in the fireplace within minutes of closing the door on them. It had been ridiculously easy, but now Lydia was stuck. That place was surprisingly respectable, but too far away from Gracechurch street for her to travel there safely—without revealing her identity, that was, and she was not ready to give up her anonymity. How could she be in hitting range of villains if said villains carefully avoided her? Her honour would be safe, but her only remaining purpose in society would be to find a husband, and she was not ready for that.  
  
Lydia had enough money left to pay room and board for a few weeks, so she decided to wait until someone came here to bring her back home. She had written to her family—both her father and uncle—and explained that the man she went away with had rented a room for her and then left, but as she did not know exactly where she was, she thought it possible that they would need a little time before finding her.

  
It had seemed a sensible plan at the time, but nearly two weeks had elapsed and she had still no news from her family. She hoped her letters had not been lost. Perhaps she ought to have been more careful as she wrote the directions.  
  
Sighing, she looked out of the window once more—and started. She knew the gentleman who had just entered the yard.  
  
What was Mr Darcy doing here? Could he be looking after Mr Wickham for reasons of his own? This was quite improbable, but still the most believable explanation she could come up with. She hoped this was the case, anyways, because he could be her opportunity to escape without attracting too much notice.  
  
Soon, she heard a knock on her door and went to open it. Mr Darcy stood in the hall, looking more severe than she remembered.  
  
“Mr Darcy! What a surprise to see you there. Will you come in?”  
  
He seemed to hesitate, but entered the small room. Glancing around, he took a breath.  
  
“Miss Bennet, I am here on behalf of your relatives. They are worried about you and have been looking for you everywhere. Would you please allow me to bring you back to their home ?”  
  
Lydia had not expected that. Why would her relatives have asked _Mr Darcy_ for help ? It did not matter much, but Lydia was curious—and delighted to have been handed a way out!  
  
“La, Mr Darcy ! Why would they be worried? I wrote to them as soon as I arrived. Dear George had found me these lodgings and told me he would visit me often until his business was done, but I have not heard from him since.”  
  
“Not heard from him? You mean he left you all alone here?”  
  
Lydia pouted.  
  
“He did! I told him I should prefer to go to my uncle's home, but he preferred me to live more near his quarters, so that he could see me each day.” She giggled, then sobered. “Of course, I didn't see him at all. Not since I entered this room.” That was the absolute truth, but she had to control herself. Grinning would be somewhat inappropriate if she wanted Mr Darcy to believe her.  
  
Clearly, that had unsettled Darcy. He probably did not expect Wickham to act that way.  
  
“I am afraid, Miss Bennet, that you probably will not see George Wickham ever again.”  
  
_I must not smile, I must not smile._ Lydia managed to look alarmed.  
  
“What do you mean? We are to be married! He is only held back by some business or other!”  
  
“I am sorry. Mr Wickham probably used you for ...”  
  
Mr Darcy obviously did not know how to finish his sentence, and it gave Lydia the opportunity to continue.  
  
“Oh ! The chaise ! _He_ had made all the arrangements, but _I_ had been the one to pay. It was the same for the inn.” She lifted sad eyes at him; her lower lip was trembling. Acting silly was definitely easier than acting sad. “You mean he took me along only for my purse ? I ... I thought he loved me !” Here she managed to display some tears.  
  
Mr Darcy looked more awkward than ever. And a little relieved, too, when he understood she was not ruined. _Odd. Why would he feel concerned about that ? Oh, well, it matters not._

 

**~~~**

  
Lydia Bennet was thus welcomed by her family and her reputation untainted—the letters she had written and which had eventually reached their recipents had helped, and Mr Darcy had hired a lady to be her companion; it was believed Mrs Thomas had been with her all along. A few weeks later, when Mr Darcy came back in Longbourn to court her sister Elizabeth, Lydia understood what his interest had been in her recovery. Later, when the two of them married, she managed to obtain an invitation to join them in Town for the Season.  
  
Oh, she still was not ready to marry, but villains are found everywhere, and as there were not any left in Meryton, the youngest Bennet daughter wished to expand her hunting grounds. As her manners had greatly improved, her sister and brother did not mind to have her with them, though they sometimes raised an eyebrow at her when she managed to come back from a ball they attended with a really dusty dress. Maybe she would tell them her secret. Someday.


	2. Scowling Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homonymy can be problematic, especially when one deals with fairies.

Once upon a time, in a Kingdom far, far away, lived a clever and book-loving King and his beautiful and lively Queen. They had long been without a child, and when at least a baby girl was born, they invited all the fairies of the Kingdom to her christening. Each fairy had a gift to make to the little princess.  
  
Fairy Anne gave her health, Fairy Georgiana gave her self-confidence, Fairy Louisa gave her the love of books, Fairy Caroline gave her kindness, Fairy Charlotte gave her beauty, Fairy Lydia gave her grace and poise, Fairy Catherine gave her to be an interesting conversationalist, Fairy Mary gave her a lovely singing voice and the ability to play all instruments beautifully.  
  
As Fairy Elizabeth began to speak—reflecting that the ability to be a good judge of character might be useful to the little princess—she was interrupted by the arrival of Fairy Catherine. The _other_ Fairy Catherine, who was furious because she had not been invited.  
  
The King and the Queen blanched. Because there were two fairies named Catherine, there must have been a mix-up somehow, and they had not thought to check the answers. Had Old Fairy Catherine been in a pleasant mood, she would certainly have gifted the princess with the ability to only give advice when it was really needed. But alas, she was most seriously displeased, and thus cursed the adorable six-weeks-old baby who gurgled happily at her.  
  
“Baby Jane, while you will be a perfectly accomplished princess, there will be such a scowl on your face that no prince will ever want to marry you!”  
  
Having thus made her sentiments known, she went away in a huff. The Queen called for her smelling salts. The baby had now an unpleasant expression but otherwise did not appear to suffer in any way, and nearly all of the people assembled shuddered or wailed, for in that kingdom, only a man or a married woman could rule. If the princess was not married at the time the King died, the throne would go to a distant relative of his.  
  
Until the long-awaited princess was born, the heir to the throne had been Prince Collins, a man of mean understanding who, if left in charge of the kingdom, would certainly lead it to its fall. It was unlikely that the Queen and King ever had another child, and thus, if Princess Jane did not marry, the kingdom seemed doomed.  
  
In the middle of all this noise and commotion, Fairy Elizabeth was studying an Etiquette Book, and more precisely the pages pertaining to the rules about royal weddings.  
  
“A-ha!” she exclaimed, finding what she was seeking. “You thought you had won, old bat? Not so!”  
  
The thousand or so people gathered in the rooms suddenly fell silent. Fairy Elizabeth felt all their stares on her.  
  
“Uh, er ... it says here, in Section IV, Under-Section 11, Paragraph c), that the Princess is not compelled to marry a prince in order to inherit. 'twas merely a tradition. And, er, since my elder colleague only said no _P_ _rince_ would marry her, that leaves every other man available. The kingdom is safe from Prince Collins. Probably.”  
  
The crowd cheered, and the party began.  
  
The King, however, was both relieved and disquieted. He picked up his daughter, went near Fairy Elizabeth, and exposed his concerns to her.  
  
“The Kingdom may be safe from Collins, but the whole point of having a Princess marry a Prince is to ensure that no fortune-hunter gets his hands on it. Moreover, a Prince has been trained from infancy about what is needed to govern—what guarantees shall we have that the man my daughter will marry will be able to help her in her task?”  
  
“I have yet to offer the little one a gift. I am not powerful enough to cancel Catherine's malediction, so Princess Jane shall not marry a prince, but something can still be done.”  
  
Fairy Elizabeth sat and thought while looking at Jane's scrunchy face. Then she took the baby in her arms, cleared her voice and spoke again.  
  
“Little Princess, one day, you will fall in love with a man wise enough to help you to govern the Kingdom, and that man will love you back. You will know for certain it is him, because when he will first kiss you, your scowl will go away.”  
  
“ _Pardon me_? Are you suggesting that my daughter should kiss every man who comes across her path in order to find one worthy to reign with her?”  
  
“Oh, no. Nononono. 'tis just a safeguard against deceivers. Your daughter still only have to kiss the men she wants to kiss, your Majesty, Sir.”  
  
“I do _not_ want to think about my daughter kissing anyone at all," the King said with a scowl matching his daughter's. "And what is that nonsense about love ?”  
  
“Well, duty to the kingdom is a fine thing, but little Jane also deserves some happiness, does she not?”  
  
While they were speaking, the baby had fallen asleep. Both smiled.  
  
“Indeed she does.”  


**~~~**

  
The little princess grew in grace and beauty, and while her face was frozen in a very unpleasant expression, it did not stop her people to love her, for she was very kind.  
  
Twenty and some years after her birth, Princess Jane met a young and handsome merchant at a ball, and she liked him very well. After a few conversations, she did kiss him, and unlike the one or two times when she had kissed a man who seemed both pleasant and sincere in his attentions—the name Wickham comes to mind—her face lit with the most beautiful of smiles. Princess Jane married her young man; they eventually ruled the kingdom together and lived happily ever after.


	3. Pearls and Snakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, now dusted and edited a little, was the very first bit of fanfiction I wrote. It is inspired from of two tales, a traditional one and a modern one.  
> The original tale, which I mostly retold, is Charles Perrault's "les fées." Pierre Gripari made this tale his own in "la fée du robinet," from the "Contes de la rue Broca," and I took more liberties with his storyline while keeping the gist of his idea.

In a cottage near a forest lived a widow with her two daughters. The woman was vain and conceited, and liked her eldest best, for the girl was more like her both in appearance and in character. Her youngest daughter, who was beautiful and kind, was treated little better than a servant. One of her tasks was to fetch water from a fountain in the woods.  
  
One evening, she encountered an poor, old woman there, who asked her for water. The kind young lady filled her jug and lifted it so that the older one could drik easily. Now, the woman wasn't an ordinary one: she as the fountain fairy, who had taken this appearance to see for herself how good the young lady was. Satisfied with her actions, she decided to reward her with a gift.  
  
“Because you have been kind and generous, flowers and jewels will fall from your lips whenever you will speak,” she said, and then she disappeared.  
  
The young lady was quite astonished, but as the darkness was growing, she quickly went home, where her mother scolded her for being late.  
  
“Please, mother, forgive me for my tardiness.” As she said that, four diamonds, two emeralds and two roses fell on the floor.  
  
“Dearest Jane, what is that?" her mother asked—it was the first time she called her daughter so. “What happened to you?”  
  
After Jane told her mother and sister her tale, the former decided that her favorite must also benefit from such a gift.  
  
“Caroline, tomorrow evening you will go to the fountain, and you will help any old woman who wants some water to drink.”  
  
Caroline grumbled a lot—she did not like the forest, for it was full of trees and insects and birds, but her mother did not leave her any choice in the matter, and so she went, carrying the most beautiful ewer of the house with her.  
  
As she arrived by the fountain, she met a lovely lady, who was dressed in the most beautiful dress Caroline had ever see, and adorned with many jewels. The lady—who definiteley could not be described as a poor old crone—asked her for some water.  
  
“I am not your servant,” she sniffed. “If you want to drink, help yourself to the spring.”  
  
The lady was the fairy, under another disguise. She had wished to know how disagreeable Caroline would be, and consequently punished her with the ability to spit toads or snakes whenever she spoke.  
  
Caroline ran back home.  
  
“Well, daughter?” said her mother when she saw her.  
  
“Well, Mother ...” she answered, releasing a toad and a snake in the process.  
  
“This is your sister's doing! I will make her pay!” The widow screamed, and she kicked poor Jane out of the house.  
  
Jane walked a long time, until she found a clearing. She sat on a log and began to cry softly. Her sobs were heard by a young and kind prince who had recently come in the neighborhood. He approached and saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, obviously in some distress. Even in her sadness, she looked like an angel.  
  
“Dear Madam, why are you crying?”  
  
“My mother banished me from my home, sir,” JAne begun, and she Jane told him her story.  
  
The prince was charmed by her voice and her kindness—though her retelling was faithful, she never uttered a harsh word towards the mother and sister who so cruelly abused her. He further reflected that, with such a gift, the lack of a dowry could be easily overlooked, and so he asked for her hand. Jane happily accepted, and they lived happily ever after.  
  
Caroline had a much sader fate: the widow soon grew tired of her complaining and disgusted of the snakes, and also kicked her from her home. The former favorite of her mother died alone in the woods. The fairy saw the fates of both sisters, and was satisfied with it.

**~~~**

  
Years came and went, the forest fountain crumbled, and the source was lost. The fairy, who was growing bored because she did not meet anybody anymore, decided to sleep.

 

**~~~**

  
  
She slept for a very, very long time. Geologists discovered the source again, engineers made plans, workmen put pipes in place, and the water was tapped for a nearby town. When the fairy woke up, she saw a tunnel where there had been rocks and moss, and decided to follow the stream.  
  
After some turns right and some left, she found herself in the kitchen's tap of a small house.  
  
That house belonged to the Bennets, who had two daughters, Elizabeth and Lydia. The latter was used to do whatever she wanted, and often stayed out late. That night was no exception, and before going to sleep, she went in the kitchen to drink a glass of water. She did not achieve her goal, for as soon as she turned the tap on, the fairy appeared, making her scream and drop her glass.  
  
“Fear not, dear girl,” the small winged creature said. She had not bothered with taking an human appearance this time.  
  
“Who... _what_ are you?” a shocked Lydia answered.  
  
“I am the Fairy of the Fountain, and I am hungry. Would you please give me something to eat?”  
  
Still stunned, Lydia grabbed a chocolate biscuit and gave it to the fairy, who ate it with delight.  
  
“In reward for your kindness, pearls will fall from your lips whenever you speak.” The fairy then disappeared, leaving an incredulous Lydia behind. The girl began to wonder whether she had drunk too much and was hallucinating. She went to sleep, and when she woke up, was perfectly conviced it had meen merely a dream.  
  
When she came down for breakfast, her parents and sister were already there.  
  
"Morning, everyone !” she greeted them.  
  
Two pearls rolled on the table, and everyone froze.  
  
“I guess it wasn't a dream after all,” Lydia giggled. “What a joke!”  
  
The three others continued to stare as more pearls fell. Her sister was the first to react and ask what had happened. Lydia began to unfold her tale, and when she had finished, her mother—who interrupted her only once to provide her with a salad bowl in order to collect the pearls more easily—was in raptures.  
  
“Oh, Lydia, you clever girl! Only think of all the money we'll have, and a new car! How well you acted, sweetie!”  
  
Her father was pleased too.  
  
“I never thought I would be happy to hear your endless inane chatter, Lydia. For now, you will not need to go to school anymore. You may stay at home and do whatever you want, as long as you talk long enough over the salad bowl.”  
  
Elizabeth was a little worried with this turn of events. Her sister was not the wisest person—she was but sixteen, which must be her excuse—and their parents' reaction did not appear very responsible. Moreover, Lydia would not like being confined at home. Maybe had to also do something about the tap-haunting entity, for Elizabeth was pretty certain this was not a proper place for a fairy.  
  
When she tried to say as much, her father dismissed her concerns, saying she worried for nothing, while her mother accused her of being jealous of Lydia. Thus Lydia stayed home and talked, talked, and talked all day long in the salad bowl. The pearls were all small—no matter the length of the words. The teenager soon grew weary of her situation, but her parents would not hear of her stopping. Mrs Bennet regularly sold the pearls to a jeweller, while Mr Bennet enterained the idea of leaving his job and dedicate himself to the embellishment of his library.  
  
Elizabeth saw her sister was unhappy and, when she was not studying, tried to make her days more agreeable, but she could not do much. Lydia was forbidden to go outside, so all they could do was chatting or watching  a movie together. Mrs Bennet soon forbade this as well.  
  
“Lydia must speak. We cannot lose a moment of her speech—and every moment she listens to something is a moment during which she doesn't speak!”  
  
Elizabeth was reduced to provide her sister with lemoned and honeyed hot water to appease her throat, and she held her hand while Lydia complained bitterly about the unfairness of the situation. She was in the middle of one of these rants, when her mother noticed something odd amongst the pearls. Some were bigger than the others.  
  
“Lydia, dearest, what did you just say?”  
  
Lydia stopped and furrowed her brow. “I believe I was swearing, Mum”—and as soon as that hypothesis was verified, she was ordered to say nothing but swearing words all day long. That relieved her for a short time, but she soon realized that her situation was worse than it had been at first—at least, while using ordinary words, she could communicate with her family. Well, with her sister mainly, since her father was not often around because he said he didn't like to hear her whine, and her mother did not really pay attention to what she said.  
  
Lydia was deeply unhappy and reflected that her parents were not likely to give up they newfound fount of wealth. As for Elizabeth, she was still dependent from their parents and thus not in a position to help her for now. Even if she were, the fact she had been right to be cautious in the beginning did not sit well with Lydia. She decided to flee. In the evening, while her family slept soundly, Lydia crept out of the house and took a bus to the nearest big city.  
  
Once she got there, she wondered where to go, and stood near the bus station, looking around her. A few paces away, a charming young man noticed the apparently lost teenager and came to speak to her.  
  
“Hi! What is a lovely girl like you doing all alone at this time of the night?”  
  
“I ran away,” blurted Lydia without thinking; three pearls fell.  
  
George, for that was his name, carefully concealed the greedy gleam in his eyes and affected an air of concern.  
  
“How sad! What happened to you?”  
  
As Lydia told him her story, she noticed that he didn't make a move to collect the pearls. That attitude being different from that of her mother, she began to believe she could trust him. When, after learning that she had nowhere to go, George suggested that she could sleep in his guest room, she followed him.  
  
As a result, she found herself cursing above a salad bowl again, but this time she was locked in a room with no means to escape—and without a compassionate sister at her side. She was well-fed, and the room was comfortable, so she did not dare trying to flee for fear of encountering a worse fate.  
  
  
Meanwhile, the Bennet parents had been dismayed on discovering their daughter's disappearance. More precisely, they had bemoaned the disparition of their new source of income. As they had still a daughter home and hoped the fairy was still in the tap—they were not certain about that because no one used that tap during the night—they tried to convince Elizabeth to ask for the same gift as her sister, but she flatly refused.  
  
Her mother, after having called her selfish and unfeeling, resorted to cunning. She served a very salty meal and did not give her daughter anything to drink. Elizabeth woke during the night feeling very thirsty and found that the bathroom door was closed. She rolled her eyes and went to the kitchen. Of course, no bottle of anything was available, so she grabbed a glass and turned on the tap. The tiny fairy came out, yawned, and smiled at Elizabeth.  
  
“Hello, young lady. I am hungry. Would you please give me a biscuit?”  
  
Elizabeth had filled her glass and was currently drinking, so she could not answer, but she glared at the fairy.  
  
“So _you_ are the Tap Fairy? The one responsible for Lydia's gift?” she said after she swallowed. “I am not certain I wish to be nice with you.”  
  
The fairy frowned. “Jealous of your little sister, are you? Do not be nice if you do not wish to. I shall give you something all the same.” She sniggered, muttered something about history repeating itself, added a few magical words, and disappeared.  
  
Elizabeth pinched her lips, drank another glass of water, and went back to sleep. At dawn, her mother barged into her bedroom and demanded to know her news.  
  
“Mum, what ...” she could not finish her sentence, because her mother screamed. A couple of garter snakes were lazily curling on her bed.  
  
Elizabeth stared, opened her mouth, appeared to think better of it, and closed it again. Mrs Bennet ran to her husband, wailing that Elizabeth was cursed, that they were ruined, and predicting all that their neighbours would say of their disgrace. Mr Bennet agreed that something had to be done and, after exchanging a few words with his daughter, decided to see a doctor. Mrs Bennet did not want to be the talk of their neighbors, so they drove to another town to see a newly established doctor.  
  
The young Doctor Darcy received them and listened to Mr Bennet's tale and Mrs Bennet's lamentations politely. When they were finished, however, he coldly told them that he was very busy and that, frankly, he did not think a young lady of twenty and her parents should make such stupid jokes.  
  
“Really ?” Elizabeth said, and a garter snake fell on his desk.  
  
The doctor stared at the snake, then at her, and back at the snake, but stayed silent.  
  
“Now that you see this is serious, do you have any helpful suggestion?”  
  
Doctor Darcy looked at Elizabeth again. She glared at him, was obviously not happy, and had beautiful eyes.  
  
“Er... stay silen ?”  
  
“As if I hadn't already thought of that, you dolt," she hissed. More inocuous snakes fell, and behind them, a viper.  
  
Doctor Darcy stilled.  
  
“Would you mind repeating that?”  
  
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I said I obviously thought about staying silent, but wished for another solution.”  
  
“No, after that.”  
  
He did nor appear angry, but rather looked like a pointer dog who had found some rabbit. Elizabeth was puzzled.  
  
"Huh? You dolt?” Another viper fell.  
  
The doctor broke into a smile. “Wonderful!”  
  
“Pardon me? I spit poisonous snakes and all you have to say is “wonderful”? Bloody hell!”  
  
This time, a couple of pythons came after the harmless snakes.  
  
“Hm. Apparently, swearing leads to big snakes and insults to venomous ones. Would you please try again? There is an empty crate there, it might be more prudent to speak over it.”  
  
Elizabeth did not believe she had much of a choice, and given the doctor's attitude, she hoped he had found something that could help her, so she uttered a couple of insults over the crate. A rattlesnake and a cobra went out. Darcy was beaming. Mr Bennet began to hope, too.  
  
“Doctor, what do you suggest?”  
  
“Sir, I wish to marry your daughter.”  
  
The three Bennets stared at him.  
  
“Do you think this will cure her?” Mr Bennet cautiously asked.  
  
“I hope not!"  
  
More silence followed.  
  
"I happen to be part of a team who do research work about snake poison. Some specimens are very hard to find, and a gift such as your daughter's would be a precious asset to our team. If we were married, we would never need to wait for animals to be delivered anymore."  
  
Elizabeth frowned. Before she could speak, her mother intervened.  
  
“Well, it's not as if Lizzy can attract any man anymore, and I want to have grandchildren someday.” Her voice faltered. “Now that Lydia is gone, Lizzy is my only hope.”  
  
“Would anyone mind asking for my opinion?” fumed Elizabeth.  
  
Darcy looked at her adoringly—or maybe at the snakes, that was not clear.  
  
“Please, dearest, marry me?”  
  
“Are you mad? You did not know me an hour ago, and you are only interested in me because I can be of use to you!”  
  
“That, and you have fine eyes, too. I guess I was too much enthusiastic. Hm. Would you mind helping our team to procure venomous snakes, though? In the interest of science?”  
  
Elizabeth agreed to that, and they met whenever Darcy needed to collect one snake or another, which happened regularly enough. They talked a lot, and before they knew what happened, quietly fell in love with another.  
  
Some time later, the fairy wished to know what happened to the sisters. Lydia, whom she had wanted to reward, was exploited by George and miserable, while the one she had wanted to punish was on her way to an happily ever after with her young doctor. She had to right this situation.  
  
The fairy thought fleetingly about making additional gifts to make sure Lydia was happy and Elizabeth unhappy, but wondered about the probability of merely adding to the already created mess. She eventually elected to merely cancel her gifts and leave the girls live their lives without further input of her part. She muttered a few words, and Lydia instantly stopped delivering pearls. When George discovered the loss of her gift, he threw herself out of his home, and Lydia went back to her parents who happily welcomed her back—they had come to terms with the loss of the pearls. Lydia began to study in earnest and developed a marked distate for jewels.  
  
At the same time, Elizabeth stopped emitting snakes. Darcy was a little sad with the loss of her gift, but he was very much in love with her by then, and it made their conversations far more simpler. He proposed properly not long after that and, this time, was accepted.  
  
The fairy satisfied herself with this outcome and wisely decided to never deal with humans again.


End file.
